


Five People the Impala Loves (and one not-person she'd like to know better)

by Yalu



Category: Supernatural
Genre: 5+1 Things, Community: love bingo, Companions, Friendship/Love, Home, Impala Fic, Love, Mechanics, Multi, One-Sided Relationship, Other, POV Inanimate Object, Parental Love, True Love
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-08-09
Updated: 2013-08-09
Packaged: 2017-12-22 22:00:51
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 567
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/918523
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Yalu/pseuds/Yalu
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Dean is her true love, but not her only, and certainly not her first. Impala!fic</p>
            </blockquote>





	Five People the Impala Loves (and one not-person she'd like to know better)

**Author's Note:**

> Written for [love_bingo](http://love-bingo.livejournal.com) Round Three. Prompt: Polygamy.  
> 

Dean is her one true love.

They're made for each other, perfect partners in crime. They know each other inside out, scream _Back in Black_ together as they soar down the highway, hold whole conversations on long stakeouts (and yes, Sammy's fine, she promises with a hum of her air vents).

He washes her every week, religiously. She soothes him with favourite songs. She's cradled him when he was hurt. He made her whole when she was broken. There's nothing they wouldn't do for each other.

Dean is her true love, but not her only, and certainly not her first.

 

Sam is her baby. Sam has, literally, grown up on her back seat, grown so big he has trouble folding himself in, and she loves him all the more because he doesn't care. It doesn't matter. She's the only home he's ever had.

Sometimes, when Dean has a girl in the motel room, Sam will wedge himself into the back seat and curl up like he used to, grumbling half-heartedly about being left out in the cold. "At least _you_ understand," he mutters.

She sings lullabies through radio stations he thinks he's picked and keeps the heating on. She knows.

 

John chose her. With help, but in the end, he chose her. He loved her first, maintained her, restored her, made her his partner in taking care of his family. She was his witness when he proposed. His son was born on her back seat.

She sheltered him when he cried, alone and hopeless, trying to take care of two tiny boys with no one else to turn to. She's the only one who could be there for him, to tell him it would be all right.

The last she saw, he was being carried out of her wreck, bleeding.

 

Bobby is her lover. Or at least her masseuse. He has magic, magic hands and years of experience, knows all the tricks to make her sing – and _oh_ does he make her sing. He knows exactly how tight her bolts should be, how to get the last itchy speck of grime out of her carburetors.

He's the one who helped John repair her after her first fight with a ghost, and though John taught Dean her tech specs and maintainance, it's Bobby who showed him how to do it with love.

She wasn't special to Bobby, but she misses him.

 

Mary never liked her. She never understood why – she was _so_ much cooler than that ugly van – but cool didn't seem to cut it. She could have shrugged that off, ignored her, but instead, she worked for it. She took corners extra carefully, especially when rushing them to the hospital, and played _Hey Jude_ when Mary hid to cry on her parents' anniversary.

She was never more than a car to Mary and things between them were always rocky, but Mary gave her her babies, and when the house went up in flames she swore, _I'll take care of them._

 

That yellow bug Charlie pulls up in is a _hottie_. Smooth and chic and as cool a lady as her driver. They haven't had much chance to get to know each other yet, but there's been flirting, and she thinks they might really have something going on between them.

But that POS Pontiac her boys drove while she was in a corner? That thing is going _down_.


End file.
